


Promises in the Dark

by LuxKen27



Series: Count Me In [7]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: He had become absolute putty in her hands: wherever she led, he was more than willing to follow.





	Promises in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The _Baby-sitters Club_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1986 – 2000 Ann M. Martin/Scholastic Corporation. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Further author’s notes can be found [here](https://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/799113.html).

~*~

Janine threaded her fingers through her hair as she pondered the chess board in front of her. She toyed with the end of a lock, absently curling the ebony tress around her finger as she considered her strategy. They’d played enough by now that he realized she was lost somewhere in that deeply analytical brain of hers – she only played with her hair when she was completely, fiercely focused on the task at hand.

She was sitting in a well-worn armchair across from him, the chess board spread out on a stack of old pallets that had been pressed into service as a coffee table in his suite. She had curled her legs under herself, leaning forward on one of the chair’s overstuffed arms, one hand cupping her elbow while the other played with that same lock of hair.

Decision made, she reached for her piece and moved it deftly across the board. “Check,” she announced with a smile.

Charlie couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was completely in her element, having already beaten him twice that evening. He wasn’t much of a chess player – yet – but he’d enjoyed learning the game. He’d picked it up as a coping mechanism when he’d started his freshman year of college 3,000 miles away from everything he’d known and loved. There was something about reducing the world to the confines of the chess board that soothed his anxiety. He’d joined the Russian club to hone his skills, but even with two years of practice and a couple of friendly tournaments under his belt, he was no match for his certified genius girlfriend.

Her eyes rose to meet his. “Your move,” she prompted, her tone soft, matching the gentle curve of her lips.

He felt his insides melt a little bit. He loved her smile, and was so pleased that it was coming more often – and naturally – in his presence. What a difference a day made: when she’d shown up at the door of his suite that morning, she’d worn the look of a lamb standing stoic on its way to the slaughter. She’d tried to hide it, but the fear had been rolling off of her in waves. He hadn’t been prepared for it, having spent the previous night dreaming about all of the things they’d finally have the chance to do together, but he went with it, making the instantaneous decision to change his plans.

He shared a suite with two other guys, both fellow athletes. They each had their own bedroom, but shared a common room, a bathroom, and a tiny area with a hotplate that had generously been called a kitchen on the floorplan. He and his suitemates had been playing video games that morning, but he’d given up all pretense of paying attention when she arrived. He’d ushered her in with a kiss on the cheek, introduced her to his suitemates (who were too absorbed in their gameplay to offer much more than grunts in return), put her stuff in his room, and then, instead of hanging out, they’d immediately left the dorm.

Getting away from his suitemates had relaxed her shoulders to mere stiffness. They quietly wandered around the campus for most of the morning, followed by lunch at one of the cafés on the quad. Neither could bear the idea of going back to the Vex U tournament, so instead they stopped by a tennis match that afternoon to cheer on one of his suitemates, and then went for pizza and beer with a group of friends for dinner. 

In short, they’d spent a leisurely day on campus, and once she realized that he wasn’t going to jump her bones the second they were alone, her tension and wariness eased and she seemed to enjoy herself.

They’d been lolling around the campus bookstore just before lunch when it dawned on him why she’d been so uncomfortable that morning. He’d silently chastised himself for the part he’d unwittingly played in making her feel that way. They’d had so little time together between rounds of the tournament, and no matter how cocksure he’d acted about their wager, he’d been very afraid that one of their teams would lose at any moment, and that she’d be whisked away before he was ready to let her go. They’d lost so much time together already, and with an unknown future looming over them, he’d searched out her boundaries much faster than normal. He didn’t push, and hadn’t really thought about whether he was being aggressive in his pursuit, but obviously he had been, and he’d spooked her.

That’s also when he realized that he didn’t really know much about the breadth and depth of her romantic experience. She’d been on dates and knew how to kiss and had even had a high school sweetheart, but she was also quite skittish. He was used to the girls he pursued having some knowledge of the game, but then, everything he’d known about love and women was being thrown out the window with this relationship. 

“I resign,” he said, without even looking at the board.

She arched a brow. “Are you sure about that?” she prodded.

He glanced down. It took him a few seconds, but then he saw it: she’d deliberately left him a path to checkmate. He narrowed his eyes as he looked back at her again. “You’re really going to let me win?”

She shrugged, but her gaze was steady on his.

He knocked his king over anyway. “I thought you knew me better than that,” he teased, stretching his legs out in front of him on the common room sofa.

She shook her head, her expression a mix of disdain and incredulity. “Sometimes I wonder if I know you at all,” she mused in response.

He froze mid-stretch. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorted, unable to keep the sharpness out of his tone.

She shook her head again and settled back in the armchair. “This isn’t exactly how I anticipated spending this day with you,” she said, waving her hands around the room. Color rose to her cheeks when he didn’t immediately respond, and she stammered, “I mean – that is to say – ”

He put her out of her misery. “First of all, I’m not an animal,” he assured her, hoisting himself back up into a sitting position. He started clearing the board. “Secondly, I’m interested in more than just your hot body.”

She gave him a withering look, but he put up his hand to ward off the inevitable comment about her lack of attractiveness. “I like _you_ , Janine, and I want to spend time with you,” he continued, concentrating on laying out the chess pieces for a new game. “I know I’ve acted like a hormone-ravaged teenager this week, but part of that was a fear of losing you. If I’d known how the bet was going to play out – that we’d have this time together, at our leisure – then I wouldn’t have pushed quite so hard.”

He toyed with the white king and queen pieces before setting them down on their respective squares. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “You didn’t let me finish.”

He lifted his eyes to meet hers.

“This _isn’t_ the way I anticipated this day going, but I’ve really enjoyed it,” she told him, a tremulous smile curving the corners of her mouth. “It was a lot of fun. I like spending time with you.” She reached for his hand. “I’m glad I stayed.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I’m glad you came, and _ecstatic_ that you stayed,” he joked with a grin. “We should do this more often.”

“Maybe,” she allowed with chuckle. “After all, according to the terms of our wager, you still owe me a boon.” She laced her fingers through his.

“Mmm, I can’t wait,” he replied, bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss across the back of it. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in your natural environment: surrounded by brilliant minds and a whole bunch of shit I couldn’t even begin to understand.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be sure to take you on the grand tour,” she promised wryly, adjusting her glasses with her free hand, “but be warned: Marie-Thérèse will be the mere tip of the iceberg.”

He furrowed his brow. “Who?”

“My voluptuous teammate who was making calf eyes at you during the tournament,” she explained. Her expression faltered just a bit. “There aren’t a lot of handsome athletes roaming around MIT. It might be hard to keep you all to myself.”

He clasped the hand he held in both of his, stroking her palm with his thumbs until she met his gaze again. “Never,” he told her solemnly. “I only have eyes for you.”

A small smile played at the corner of her lips. “Isn’t that the name of an old song?” she mused.

He had no idea, so he just shrugged. “How about another game?” he asked, nodding towards the chess board.

Reluctantly, she shook her head. “I shouldn’t,” she said. “It’s getting late.”

He glanced at the clock just above the door to their suite. It was barely ten, which was considered early by his – and most college students’ – standards. Unfortunately, there were rather extenuating circumstances here.

“What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asked quietly.

“Seven,” she informed him. “I should probably leave for the airport at five.”

He nodded mutely, still holding her hand with both of his. Even though he understood, logically, that their time together was coming to an end, that didn’t mean that he had to be ready for it. “Maybe we can grab breakfast on the way,” he suggested.

She nodded. “I’d like that,” she agreed, bringing her free hand up to meet his.

They sat there for a long moment, their hands clasped together, and simply stared into each other’s eyes. Charlie could feel a storm of emotions welling up in his chest, but he did his best to keep it at bay, not wanting to frighten her again with the intensity of his feelings. He couldn’t mourn losing her until it actually happened; right now, at this moment, they were together, and he wanted so badly to cherish it: the way she looked, the way her hands felt in his, this fragile connection that was both cerebral and sexual.

Heat curled low in his abdomen as his gaze fell to her lips. Other than that brief kiss in greeting, they’d only held hands briefly as they walked around campus that morning; every other moment of the day he’d refrained from physical contact. Even though he’d wanted to touch her in a million different ways over the course of their day, he didn’t dare act upon that impulse, not after realizing that he’d scared her with his actions during the tournament.

Earlier, he’d wanted her to feel relaxed and safe and secure with him; now, he just wanted to _feel_ her: warm and soft and alive, her body flush against his.

“Please, let me kiss you,” he whispered.

She moved from the ratty, overstuffed armchair to sit next to him on the equally well-loved sofa. She lifted a hand and ran her fingers though his hair, warm tingles following in their wake across his scalp. He closed his eyes, and her lips met his in a soft kiss.

The heat in his belly flared out, rising through his chest and running down the lengths of his arms and legs. He quelled the accompanying tide of urgency, concentrating instead on enjoying the sensation of her mouth on his, the fullness of her lips, the tiny puffs of her breath as their kisses lengthened and deepened. She folded her arms over his shoulders, pressing her body into his as she buried both of her hands in his hair, at turns twining and clutching and combing her fingers through his dark curls, before cradling the back of his head as she tentatively pressed an advantage, her tongue seeking entrance into his mouth.

The muscles across his abdomen clenched in response to her gentle probing, but otherwise he held himself still, relaxing his jaw, letting her to take the lead. He slipped his arms around her, drawing her near, and let her explore to her heart’s desire. She’d never done this before with him – or, it seemed, with anyone else – and he felt flattered and awed as well as completely turned on. His heart gained traction in his chest, and he became hyperaware of every nerve ending his is body as she dipped and licked and laved.

He clasped her tightly, his hands smoothing over her hips, but simultaneously he went boneless, ready to allow gravity to bring him down, either on top of her or beneath her, it didn’t matter. He had become absolute putty in her hands: wherever she led, he was more than willing to follow.

It was slow, exquisite torture, balancing the knife edge of equilibrium and pleasure and desire for more. Ultimately, he felt himself falling backwards, into infinity, his head coming to rest mere inches from the arm of the sofa, her hands still trapped in his hair. She shifted on top of him, quite naturally, finding balance as her body covered his, but these innocent movements sent a surge of blood to his groin, and it took everything in his considerably hazy power to not grab hold of her hips and grind them against his own.

He was well on the way to truly losing the plot when she suddenly broke off, her hands pressing down painfully on his chest as she scrambled up and away from him. When he managed to open his eyes, he felt a wave of agony wash over him as he looked at her, taking in her expression, a mixture of need and panic and regret.

“We can’t do this,” she choked out, her eyes wild. “ _I_ can’t do this.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to push away his anguish before she could see it in his face. She was shaken up, and he didn’t want to make her feel any worse. “It’s okay,” he assured her as he rose to sit beside her, closing his arms around her once more. He could feel her heart racing a mile a minute, but she accepted his embrace, curling up against his chest.

In a strange way, he felt better, knowing that whatever was going on with her hadn’t been triggered by him this time. Still, she’d broken away so abruptly that it both mystified and concerned him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a moment.

She shook her head. “I think – I think I should go to bed now,” she murmured in response, her words half-muffled against his shirt. “I have to get up early in the morning.”

“Okay,” he quickly acquiesced. “You take my bed, and I’ll sleep out here on the sofa.”

She held herself very still, still curled against him. “You’re sure?”

He pressed a kiss into her hair, and then gently pried her away just enough to look into her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure,” he confirmed. “I asked for a kiss, and you gave me way more than that. I promise you, Janine, that I’ll never make you do anything that you don’t want to do.”

He watched with growing astonishment as tears filmed her eyes. “That’s just it,” she murmured, almost bitterly, as she pulled away from him. “I _do_ want to. I just – _can’t_.”

~*~

Half an hour later, Charlie lay on the ratty, worn sofa in the common room, staring up at the darkened ceiling. He’d changed into his pajamas and taken a turn in the bathroom, moving as nimbly as possible so as to keep out of her way while she prepared for bed. He’d pulled an extra blanket from the linen closet and taken a pillow from his room, and hoped the whole time that neither of his suitemates would return before morning. They were good guys, and generally respected each other’s privacy when they brought over company, but he’d never hear the end of it if they ever found out he’d spent the night on the sofa.

He didn’t really care about that now, though. Janine’s final, cryptic words swirled through his brain, haunting him with the frustration of the unknown.

He took stock of what had happened earlier. His instincts had been right: she wanted him, maybe as much as he wanted her. She’d taken the lead tonight. All he’d asked for – and all he expected – was a kiss. She was the one who’d pushed for more…but it was also obvious that she had drifted into what she considered unchartered territory fairly early on. How was that possible? She was cute; she’d had boyfriends. Even if she’d never had sex, surely she’d engaged in a little foreplay before?

But, he considered, maybe she hadn’t. She was so edgy when it came to touching. She hadn’t spoken to him for a month after finding out that she physically aroused him. They hadn’t made it that far tonight before she broke things off, so that couldn’t have been a factor – so what _had_ alarmed her?

Another thought squeezed into his brain, but he tried to shove it out as quickly as it appeared. Even if she was uneasy about tactile contact, she was quite adept at receiving French kisses, even if she hadn’t offered many before. Hell, they’d been using tongues for the better part of a year now, even if their trysts were few and far between. Surely that meant she was comfortable with at least some form of intimacy.

So maybe it was a mental block, he thought. Or maybe emotional. As much as the idea stung, considering how close they’d become over the past year, it made sense. And then there something else to consider: was this all just part of her natural reticence, or had something happened that cultivated this reaction?

The questions whirled around in his brain, and he tossed and turned in an effort to find a comfortable position. It had never been an issue before, how little they’d talked about their past relationships, or how many assumptions he’d made based on his own experiences, but clearly it was growing out of proportion now, and it was obvious that they needed to talk about this, preferably sooner rather than later. They’d developed this habit of letting things fester between them, and he had the feeling that this could become toxic if left to steep. They could deal with any fallout while they were apart, but he needed things to be right between them – no matter what the cost – before she returned to MIT.

He sighed, lifting his head to punch his pillow once more. This was not a conversation he particularly wanted to have at five in the morning, especially if he was a zombie from lack of sleep, but he had to be fair to her. She was the one who needed to be rested tomorrow. He could always come back to his suite and crash after she left.

He cast a glance at his bedroom, and was surprised to see a light still shining under the door. His heart picked up speed, and he was on his feet before he could change his mind. He crossed the common room and contemplated his next move. He felt silly knocking on his own bedroom door, but he didn’t want to just barge in either. It was damned awkward, but he could at least afford her the courtesy of announcing his presence.

She didn’t respond to the knock, so he quietly gripped the doorknob and turned it. One of the nice things about his suite was that all of their doors opened and closed soundlessly, allowing suitemates to move around without bothering the others if they came home late, or had an obnoxiously early class.

He glanced into the room. The overhead light was off, but his bedside lamp was on. She was sitting up against the headboard, the sheets a discarded pool in her lap. She’d taken her glasses off, but her eyes were red and puffy, and she clutched a handful of tissues to her face as tears silently streamed down her cheeks.

His heart ached at the sight of her, and it was all he could do to keep himself from rushing to her and folding her into a smothering embrace. 

“Janine?” he called softly, not wanting to startle her as he stepped into the room.

She startled anyway, hastily wiping at her cheeks as he closed the space between them. He lowered himself on the mattress, facing her. “You’ve been crying,” he noted lamely, feeling stupid the second the words left his mouth.

She offered him a watery smile. “You always were a master of observation,” she sniffled, blowing her nose and setting the used tissue aside.

Heartened by her attempt at humor, he reached for her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “But why?”

She shrugged. “Because I’m confused,” she responded, keeping her eyes averted. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

His heart gathered traction in his chest. “Can we talk about it? Please?”

She nodded, plucking at the tissues in her hands as she gathered her thoughts. “As you have no doubt surmised, I am not experienced with romantic relationships,” she began, her voice dropping into a dull monotone. “I’ve told you before that people either challenge every word I say, or choose not to engage with me at all. Unfortunately, most men choose the latter route.”

He took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“I had a boyfriend in high school,” she continued. “We were together for over a year before we parted ways. We were separated for a time, and then resumed the relationship. It was an exercise in futility. Nothing had changed, not really. So we parted ways again, for good this time.” A muted flush rose over her cheeks. “I haven’t been in a relationship since.”

“Until now,” he amended quietly.

She nodded, reaching up to wipe away another tear.

The silence stretched out between them. Charlie could feel his heart thumping heavily in his chest as he regarded her. It was absolutely unbearable to watch her cry like this, as if she had some sort of stoic pain that was hers to bear alone, without complaint. 

Well, it may have been stoic, but it was also obvious and agonizing. He ached for her, and he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and soothe it away.

“What happened?” he asked instead, breaking the stillness of the room.

She looked at him, her brow creasing with confusion.

“Why did you guys break up?” he clarified.

She took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. “Because he wanted to have sex, and I didn’t,” she informed him, closing her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to see his reaction to her words.

Charlie felt his insides turn cold. “Both times?”

She nodded. “He pleaded with me to come back, said he understood my reasons and would respect my boundaries.” She snorted derisively. “Obviously, that was a promise he couldn’t keep.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “So you dumped him? Twice?”

“And he loathed me for it,” she said lowly, opening her eyes and locking her gaze onto his. “We were assigned as camp counselors the summer after, and he tormented me every day until I finally exploded with anger in front of everyone. Needless to say, it wasn’t my finest moment.”

Again he felt the urge to embrace her, and again he held himself in check, settling for another comforting caress of her hand. “I’m sorry,” he offered softly.

She shrugged, pulling out of his grasp. “I’ve not had any interest in romantic relationships since. That is, until now.”

Her words hung heavily in the air between them, but he saw other route to go except straight for the obvious.

“Have you ever had sex?” he asked, studying her carefully.

She winced at the bluntness of the question, but answered it nonetheless. “No.”

He cleared his throat. “Does it bother you that I have?”

She hesitated but for a moment, then shook her head. “No.”

He took her hand in his again, running his thumb over the backs of her fingers. “So what’s changed now?” he mused, before hastily adding, “I mean, you said before that you had reasons…”

She offered him a wry look. “I was sixteen, and terrified of the consequences.”

His eyes searched hers for a long moment. “And now?” 

Her eyes grew filmy again, and he squeezed her hand, encouraging her to respond.

“I don’t know if I can explain it,” she finally answered with an almost helpless shrug. “I’ve never felt this way before. The way I feel about you… I’ve never had these feelings for another person before.”

He felt a jolt of hyperawareness when she said that, and the block of ice in his stomach started to melt.

“I feel comfortable with you,” she continued. “I feel safe with you. I enjoy talking to you, and laughing with you, and just looking at you.” She smiled. “It’s so easy to become caught up in you, in whatever we’re doing, that sometimes I’m afraid I’m going to get swept away before I can stop, before it goes so far that I can’t come back. But at the same time…” 

She flushed, but kept her gaze steady on his. “I want you to do things I never let Jerry do. I want you to touch me and hold me and… _want_ me, like that.” She swallowed hard, wiping away another tear. “When he did those things, it made my skin crawl. When you do those things, it turns me on.”

She sighed, averting her eyes. “I don’t think I’m explaining this very well,” she concluded mournfully.

He slid closer to her on the bed, cupping her face with his hand. “I think I get it,” he responded. “It’s not the physical act that’s stopping you, so much as everything else that comes with it. And I get _that_ – it’s hard to be vulnerable with another person, to just open your heart or your soul and let someone else in. You’re facing total rejection and abject humiliation, which is scary as hell.”

She nodded. “Alfred, Lord Tennyson says that it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all,” she said quietly. “I was always skeptical of that axiom, until I met you – or should I say, rediscovered you?”

He traced the fullness of her cheek. “Well, let me set your mind at ease about a few things,” he offered with a smile. “I like you a lot, Janine. I like everything _about_ you: your smile, your brain, your wit, your sweetness and thoughtfulness and your strength. I like that you have principles and that you stick by them. I like that you’re willing to play chess with me even though I suck at it, and you feel sorry enough that you’re willing to let me win, even though it goes against your competitive nature. I think you’re incredibly hot, and sometimes I want you so badly that my teeth ache, but I’m willing to respect your boundaries.” He felt, rather than saw, the heat blooming in her cheeks. “And if I ever do anything that crosses any of your lines, you have my express permission to slap the shit out of me.”

She smiled. “I hope it won’t come to that,” she teased.

“Me, either,” he agreed with a chuckle, drawing his fingers along the line of her jaw and the fullness of her lower lip. He gently tilted her chin, his mouth brushing over hers in a soft, sweet kiss. He paused, waiting for her reaction, and his heart flooded with joy when she reached for him, running her fingers through his hair as she brought him close for another kiss.

He moved away from her lips, dotting kisses across her jaw, down one side of her throat and back up the other. He kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear before gently nipping at her earlobe. He could feel the salty tracks of her tears as his cheek pressed against hers, and he gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her as he nuzzled her neck, and listened to the tiny sounds of contentment that escaped from her lips.

He kissed his way back up to her mouth, nearly coming undone when her tongue darted out to meet his before she sealed her lips on his, offering just as much as she’d received. Her hands slipped from his hair to his shoulders to the planes of his back, leaving trails of pure fire in their wake. She brought him down beside her as she lay flat, clutching him close as they continued to kiss, their hands slow and sensuous as they continued to explore.

He could feel sweat beading on his brow as the rest of his body heated with her nearness. “Do you want to stop?” he breathed as she broke away, trailing her lips over the contours of his face.

“No,” she whispered in response, her breath cool against the shell of his ear. She was growing bolder, laving her tongue over the pulse point at his throat. “Not unless you want to.”

“No way,” he returned, moaning low in his throat as her hands mapped the small of his back. His mouth found hers with another sumptuous kiss. “I could do this all night.”

“Then stay,” she said, meeting his kiss with one of her own.

He eased away from her, locking his gaze onto hers. “You’re sure?” he murmured, combing his hand through her hair.

She nodded. “As long as you understand that this is my limit.” She placed her palm on his chest, just over his heart. “I love being near you, and I want to be near you for as long as possible.” 

“Same,” he sighed, kissing her again. “Are you willing to share your pillow, or should I go grab mine from the other room?”

“Please, just stay with me,” she said again. She shifted, pulling the tangle of sheets from between them and offering to let him join her underneath.

He didn’t need another invitation. He slid in beside her, his body flush to hers, and he kissed her again, long and slow and deep, content with the notion of being a zombie in the morning if this was the price he’d have to pay.

They could worry about parting ways then; right now, there was nowhere else he’d rather be than here, with her, safe and sweet and oh, so satisfied.


End file.
